


Next Time

by Everlind



Category: Next Time, Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlind/pseuds/Everlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you tell your boyfriend you want to see him naked?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next Time

**Next Time**

Even two hours after the… incident, if you will, Ohtori's cheeks are still burning.

Really now, the least they could've done was locked the shower room.

But nooo.

Instead he'd walked in on the both of them right as Mukahi threw his head back at the moment-supreme. Of course that had been when he'd unsuspectingly had thrown the door wide and the moment-supreme had turned into a supremely awkward moment.

Ohtori doesn't know what to think or do.

The only thing he knows is that he's glad that Shishido-san wasn't there to see it. That might've been disastrous.

It's just that… Mukahi and Oshitari are doubles two and Shishido-san and he doubles one and it is high school and the team probably knows that their doubles pairs are unconventionally close and now Ohtori has seen the doubles two pair doing _it_ -yes _it_ , all the fireworks included- and he and Shishido-san… aren't.

It all comes down to: if Shishido-san and he had witnessed that together, it might've become _a thing._ Something they can't really talk about -because who would want to talk about it in relation to that?- but also because it is a very delicate subject. Not to mention that it would be easy to upset one other, or run into obstacles such as _who gets to do who_ , to put it simply. Though, for that Ohtori has a simple solution: he doesn't mind either way, really, but it still means they have to talk about it. The we-saw-them-doing-something-and-why-aren't-we?

It's sex.

Or, to be honest, anything beyond kissing.

That's all they've done so far, really.

Ohtori loves the kissing. A lot. Could spend hours and days and years doing just that. Shishido is an amazing kisser. His mouth is soft and warm and knee-buckling achingly good on his, the way he drags their lips together, drawing out the moment, savoring it, before sliding his tongue inside. Or just placing a small sweet press against his, mouth curling into a tiny smile.

It's not that the whole Mukahi and Oshitari in the showers dropped the possibility of sex with Shishido on him like a sudden clue by four. No, Ohtori has been thinking about that for a long, long, loooooooong time now. Only now he saw that -the whole two-boys-together thing- and, yes, he's not interested at all what Oshitari looks like naked and aroused and he's also not interested in what faces Mukahi makes when he's coming. Still. It was kind of beautiful. Gross and shocking and he'll never ever be able to stand looking either of them straight in their faces again, but still. Well.

Ohtori wants that.

With Shishido-san.

Sometimes when he goes home after an evening of - _ahem_ \- studying at his senpai's, well, it's all Ohtori can do to stumble up to his room or the shower so he can lay that one last necessary touch on himself he needs to come. It's _embarrassing_. Shishido can drive him crazy. Just leaning in and breathing in the smell of his hair deeply, or even looking at him is enough for him to get one of those horrible stubborn erections that will last until he _does_ something about them.

On one hand Ohtori is more than willing to wait for Shishido. He's in love with him. And that's all there is to it for him.

But that doesn't mean that it won't drive Ohtori mad at the same time.

He doesn't think he's masturbated as much during the time before, _than now_ , when they're actually together. Sometimes he's sore from it.

Then again all Shishido has to do is to stand there and breathe and Ohtori will have to restrain himself to keep from tearing the clothes off his body. Actually, Shishido doesn't even need to be there, per se. He thinks about Shishido-san (and Shishido-san naked, at that) plenty during the day (make that most of the time) and even when he's asleep there's no reprieve. That's when the dreams start. Worse and more explicit than his daytime fantasies, at that.

All he wants is to know where things stand.

Does Shishido want to wait?

Then he will.

Doesn't he want to wait and hey, let's do it next Sunday…?

Gladly.

Problem being?

Ohtori doesn't want to talk about it. He hates talking about emotions and feelings and… and love.

Because he doesn't want to scare Shishido away.

He's not good at talking about that and he's afraid to tell Shishido those three words. He's only sixteen. They're both boys. It's a complicated mess.

… and it is true, too.

Those three words.

***

Another problem?

Shishido knows him too well.

"What the hell happened?" Shishido demands the next morning as they meet up during morning practice.

Ohtori knows he looks like a wreck. His eyes are red and his skin is shallow and he's squinting against the early sunshine and he reeks because he nearly overslept and couldn't fresh himself up because he had to run to catch the bus. All because last night, in the private darkness of his room, his mind had gone berserk. The whole night, dreams and fantasies and whatnot had kept him… busy. And even now, though the fabric of his boxers is too rough against him, almost, just seeing Shishido-san stand there, dark hair and dark eyes and lean and tough, Ohtori has to curl his hands into fists.

"Choutarou? You okay? You look as though you've been hit by a truck," Shishido-san says, quirking a playful yet slightly worried grin at him. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Didn't sleep so well," Ohtori manages to play it off with a semi-casual shrug of his shoulders. Never mind that his face is as red as a firetruck.

Why can't he, for once, be epically impressive in front of Shishido-san? No, always the blushing and the stammering and no more words coming from his mouth because how can he talk when just seeing Shishido-san stand there, warm, alive, beautiful and also knowing that he gets to touch him and kiss him later tonight? It strikes him mute.

"You're not coming down with something, right?" Shishido asks. His eyes dart around for a moment, cautious, before pressing a rough palm against Ohtori's forehead.

Tipping his head into the touch, he smiles. "No, just tired."

Shishido nods, withdraws his hand and plants it in a fist on his hip. "Maybe I shouldn't come over tonight."

Ohtori gapes.

Shishido nods some more, seriously. "Since you're so tired."

Ohtori's mouth moves, but makes no sounds.

"Wouldn't want to wear you out," Shishido says, dead-pan, before winking.

"But all we do is kiss!" Ohtori exclaims, embarrassed by how much he enjoyed that playful gesture. Then he realizes how that just sounded. "I mean-"

But Shishido is already frowning. "Ah," he goes coolly, lip curling. "And that's _bad_?"

"No, of course it isn't. I. I like that. Very much. But-"

"But what?" Shishido repeats in an unpleasantly frosty tone.

"I-" Ohtori tangles a hand in his hair and breathes in deep. For all his big mouth, Shishido is quite sensitive. At least, he is to what Ohtori says to him. "Shishido-san. I was thinking. Maybe… we could. Do, ah, something else?"

Shishido stares at him. Long enough and blank enough Ohtori knows the meaning of his fumbling suggestion sailed clear over his head.

This is only confirmed when Shishido hazards, "Like tennis?"

Ohtori almost smiles. His senpai's standard answer, explanation and general modus operandi: tennis. When in doubt: revert back to tennis, for it will solve all mysteries.

"No," Ohtori whispers and wonders how to put 'I'd like to see you naked' less bluntly.

"Then what- ah, crap, we gotta go!" Shishido starts, hearing Atobe scream his head off why his doubles one pair isn't on court B. "We'll talk about this later," he adds, jabbing a finger into Ohtori's sternum. "You're acting weird." Then he dashes off.

Ohtori looks at his retreating back and mutters to himself, "That went well."

***

Later, of course, is when Shishido-san is sitting cross-legged on Ohtori's bed, chin perched on his palm with a small heap of books between them. Because they really do study together. At first.

To be honest, Ohtori isn't doing much of that. Though he pretends to be engrossed in chapter six of his chemistry book, he's actually sneaking peeks up through his lashes at his senpai. He's always had sexually tinted fantasies about Shishido, but now these are frightfully vivid: flashes of flushed skin and parted lips, vague fabrications on how he might look if Ohtori succeeded in making him feel really, really good. How he'd look naked; his chest and the surprising elegant curve of his back, the sharp hostility of his hips, the swell of the muscles in his thighs and, of course, what is between them.

Ohtori more or less knows what Shishido looks like naked. After all, they change together in the clubhouse and while Shishido is reserved about just about anything relating to sexuality and romance, he's not ashamed of his own body. Nor really proud of it. He showers, dries off after, gets dressed. Short, practical, to the point. No needless strutting, though he might get distracted and stand around bare-chested if a certain something is able to captivate his attention long enough.

Those are the moments Ohtori drinks in the sight of him, parched, like a man seeing a fata morgana in the desert, thinking he can taste the water on his tongue, though he realizes he's fooling himself. But to _see_ Shishido-san, for real… _oh_. And. Maybe even touch him? Yes please.

He supposes that in physical perfection, Atobe wins. Oshitari even. But both of them leave Ohtori cold. It's Shishido-san, and Shishido-san only, who only has to look at him for Ohtori to feel as though he's just been punched in the gut, hard, and is _enjoying it_.

Maybe, if he was careful and made sure not to offend Shishido-san, if he- if he made him feel that it wasn't just about the sex, or the anything, really, but more than that…?

Ohtori, helpless to stop himself, lets his book droop to the bedspread as honest longing overcomes him.

On the other hand, Shishido isn't pretending to learn. He truly is trying, eyebrows scrunched, eyes flitting along the neat lines of characters. Therefore it takes a moment before Ohtori's stare becomes enough of an itch to prompt him to look look up.

"What?" he demands, half-annoyed.

Putting down his book Ohtori rolls a numerous amount of possible replies over his tongue, before simply asking, "Can I kiss you?"

Shishido's book drops down to the sheets and he's scooted almost into Ohtori's lap before he seems to remember himself. "Wait," he says, and starts to frown. Not a good sign. "I though you wanted to do something _else_?" The last word is tossed out almost like a challenge.

Talking doesn't work. The little he did already has gotten Shishido on the defense, so doing more talking might push him onto his well-trodden warpath.

Ohtori bites his bottom lip, teeth nipping into it, and then carefully leans in to press a kiss against the corner of Shishido's mouth.

There's nothing out there that can make him feel as empowered or as deliriously ecstatic than the way that little, chaste kiss brings Shishido up short, body stiffening for a moment, before that rare, wondrous softness comes over his expression. His eyelashes flutter and he tilts his head closer unconsciously, his mouth parts, exhaling a shudder of hot breath against Ohtori's cheek. So he pulls back, tip of his nose quite honestly nuzzling the side of Shishido's face and then Shishido turns his head and a fist winds into the front of Ohtori's shirt to reel him in.

Ohtori loves kissing Shishido.

He loves how Shishido does end up in his lap, even though he can't remember either of them moving, he loves how their bodies align, chest to chest and strong legs around his waist. Shishido's hand has moved on to mercilessly crumple his tie, winding it around his fingers to pull Ohtori as close as he can. He loves the way he tastes, vaguely of the tea they had earlier, before the simple him-ness comes through, a clean taste, though utterly physical its nature is. He loves the way he smells, a base scent that can't be explained or described but only can be experienced.

The kisses can be soft little suckles, almost shy, or warm dizzying kisses, with lips parted and clinging, or utterly erotic when his tongue slides past Ohtori's lips, or sharp, with an edge of teeth in them. Ohtori holds Shishido's head framed between his hands, thumbs next to his mouth, other fingers cupped over his cheeks, into dark hair and a sharp slice of jaw in his palm.

Needless to say, he's achingly hard.

Shishido must be able to feel it, with his sitting right on it and all, but he never teases or scolds Ohtori for it. Would be hypocrite if he did, because when they draw together real close on the very intense moments, Shishido's back hollowing towards him, then he can feel an answering hardness against his lower stomach.

And that's how far they've gotten.

Ohtori realizes that most couples talk about this, but they're both boys and how can you possible say 'I want to get you naked and touch you all over' with a straight face?

So Ohtori takes the plunge with a nose-dive, and starts to edge his hands towards the buttons of Shishido's school shirt. Three buttons he gets undone. Then Shishido-san draws back and asks in a very strange voice:

"What are you doing?"

"Uhm."

"Choutarou?"

"I. Uh. I just-"

There's a pause.

Ohtori knows he's gone tomato-red. Shishido has an eyebrow cocked and his mouth twists around a funny shape.

"Choutarou?"

"Yes?" Ohtori answers in a small voice.

"Are you undressing me?"

"…yes?" Ohtori hazards, sounding definitely guilty.

Another pause. Shishido starts to shake. Ohtori braces himself, squeezing his eyes shut, hating his inability to restrain himself.

And then Shishido-san starts laughing.

So hard he topples sideways off Ohtori's thighs to end up rolling around on the bed. There's tears in his eyes of sheer mirth.

Ohtori feels slightly humiliated, and, of course, goes even redder still: a dull, pounding flush.

"It-it's not funny!" he bites out, and hears his voice crack over the last word.

Stifling one last snicker, Shishido rolls onto his back and looks up at him. His eyes shine. "Don't tell me this was the 'something else'?" --he makes air quotations with his fingers as he says this-- "Cause that would be-"

"Would be what?" Ohtori manages, voice strangled with offense. His hands twist together in his lap.

The grin slides of Shishido's face and he clambers to his knees. His eyes are still smiling, though, as he uses his index and middle finger to lift Ohtori's face towards him. "Hey," he murmurs. Lips brush against his cheek, not quite a kiss. "It's okay, don't worry about it."

Their eyes lock. "… it is?"

"Yeah," Shishido whispers. His hands move between their bodies.

Ohtori stops breathing when he realizes his senpai is unbuttoning his shirt. Eyes wide he stares as slowly, methodically, more skin is revealed.

"Why don't you just ask?" Shishido wonders, popping buttons. "I mean, you can't expect me to know you're ready for… more. You gotta say so."

"I'm ready," Ohtori blurts rather hastily.

"Yeah, that's what I-" Shishido trails off, and slips the last button through the hole. The white school shirt bares a strip of torso in the middle of his body. Shishido's collarbones are outlined in sharp shadows, and from the dip there Ohtori can see a faint line down his chest, smoothing almost away over his solar plexus, and start up right above his navel again. He's still staring when Shishido scrapes enough words together to finish his trail of thought. "I thought so, but I won't- You know. I won't. Not if you don't ask me for it."

He has to clear his throat a few times before he can muster enough voice to croak, "I'm asking for it."

Shishido's mouth quirks. "Are you?" he repeats, smirking.

"I am," Ohtori drags his eyes up Shishido's body to his face, looks him in the eye again. "Shishido-san?"

"Hm?"

"Can I touch you?"

For all his bravado and the shirt unbuttoning, the simple, naked question makes him blush. He swallows, mouth vulnerable. Then he nods.

Ohtori has to swallow, too. And his fingers shake as he reaches out, hesitant. His heart pounds painfully against his ribs, heavy and swollen, it feels like, and up so high that he can taste something thick and metallic in the back of his throat. But he reaches out all the same.

When his fingertips barely brush the right side of Shishido's collarbone, the hair raises on his body in an electric tingle and Shishido goes very, very still.

His skin is soft.

Mesmerized, Ohtori sees how _his own_ hand on _Shishido's_ body ghosts down to his chest. Shishido shivers.

Ohtori draws his hand back, but fingers close around his wrist, lightning quick, like snatching a scud serve out of mid air. "Tickles," he says and gives a tremulous smile as he draws Ohtori's hand back.

That's when Ohtori decides that he'll wait. It might kill him to do so, judging by the enormous discomfort his erection is giving him, but he will. Because Ohtori knows he's ready, but he doesn't think Shishido is. It's clear he trusts Ohtori and he might even want it, or think that he does, but he'll wait until Shishido actually _is_.

If he doesn't have a sexual-frustration induced seizure first. He foresees a lot of cold showers in the near future.

Ohtori licks his lips. His fingers tremble on buttery skin. Then he moves, arms slipping around Shishido. Hugging him.

"We don't have to do anything," he says around a thick swallow.

If he's going to wait, this has to end right here. There's no way he can promise to stop when he actually gets his hands on Shishido the way he wants to.

"We can do something, can't we?" Shishido answers into his neck.

Something. What is 'something'? He doesn't know if he can just do something and leave it at that. Even if he went and masturbated until sore, had a cold shower and imagined his grandmother in garters (eew), before trying to do 'something' with Shishido-san it probably wouldn't be enough. All he can think about is Shishido and being naked with him, skin-on-skin, tangling together until he forgets where he himself begins and ends.

"Aright," Ohtori says, nonetheless.

The first something he does is to pull back a little and to touch Shishido properly. Just under his collarbone, the pads of his fingers is all he intends, but his palm automatically follows to press again his chest, like a magnet attracted to its opposite. It's just skin, warm and sleek, but Ohtori feels himself start to float, a little, and how uncool is it that this, just this, turns him on so?

But Shishido-san is something to look at. Yes, he's in the 'too skinny' teenager phase, but really, so is he. Despite that, Shishido's body is beautiful. He's grown into his shoulders and chest by now and his body glows with health. There's hipbones and hips and a naval and ribs and nipples and Ohtori doesn't know where to start.

It's wonderful to kiss Shishido, because that is safe and familiar, and to find that his hands come up to naturally to slip under the loose shirt, holding his waist. It's even better when Shishido allows himself to be laid back on the bed, Ohtori on top of him.

They kiss, open mouthed, tongues tasting. Shishido is warm, hard and soft at the same time and there's arms winding firmly around his neck. Ohtori's hands touch the skin they can reach: mostly ribs, waist, hips, arms, a shoulder, or Shishido's face.

The look in Shishido's eyes drives him out of his mind, want, need, as bad as his own, and hopeful, but also a bit too wide, too nervous, too alert. He knows Shishido doesn't mean to tease him, but that's what that look does, regardless.

Not to mention that it doesn't help that Shishido is grinding up against him, ever so slightly.

The world reels. "S-say when," he chokes out and lets go.

Shishido-san doesn't say 'when' as Ohtori pushes the shirt down his shoulders, to watch it fall down his upper arms only to catch at his elbows. It doesn't matter that Ohtori is blushing quite fiercely, cheeks pounding with blood, and it doesn't matter that he has to lean in and rest his head into the crook of Shishido's neck for a bit to collect himself; because he doesn't say 'when' then, either. Nor does he say 'when' when Ohtori's mouth -quite of its own accord- is open and tasting on a taut tendon straining under the skin of his throat and then even lower, on Shishido's chest.

There's no 'when' as Ohtori's accidentally brushes Shishido's nipple -only a sharp intake of breath. And not even when he repeats that movement not so accidentally. Not even when he drops his mouth lower and puts it there.

It's all rather experimental. Shishido makes a low, deep noise in his chest -which Ohtori can feel against the insides of his lips- and surges up so suddenly he ends up with a mouthful of random skin. Their hands fumble and their legs shift awkwardly -knees knocking and shins grinding painfully together- and they're both flushing and it's not as easy as Ohtori though it would be.

But it does feel natural, though new and overwhelming and Shishido-san still hasn't said 'when'.

He's the one to steady Ohtori's hands with his own and he's the one to chase the tension away with a crooked smile of his.

Ohtori doesn't know what he's planning to do, really. Just that he wants to do something (preferably something so good and amazing that Shishido-san is impressed. Or something.) and that he'd better do it _fast_ , before he loses it. It seems his body is so… overjoyed, if you will, at being close to Shishido that he feels he's getting dangerously close to embarrassing himself.

So he's trying to figure that out, hands touching Shishido's skin, his chest and hips, and the curve of his back, wondering if he'll have enough guts to slide his hand down that pale stomach and into Shishido's pants, when Shishido makes a low throaty growl and flips them.

It happens so fast.

Ohtori was already shaking trying to hold back the first warnings of an orgasm, and when Shishido-san looms over him, pressing him back into the sheets as he pins his right wrist parallel next to his head his eyes fly open because there's a thigh sliding between his legs, right over him through his pants and everything goes numb and on fire and it's all white light and white noise and the smell of Shishido warm and sure above him and he can only throw his head back and shout as he comes.

Or he would have, if Shishido hadn't planted his mouth across Ohtori's to muffle the admittedly loud yell just as he did so.

He can barely process the rush of all the sensations and of the reality of what just happened before he goes, bright, bright red.

_Oh God._

He can't believe he just came in his pants when they were making out.

Shishido separates their mouths with a soft wet noise and pulls back enough to look down on him. "Choutarou?"

Ohtori squeezes his eyes shut, wishes the mattress would grow teeth and chomp him right up. "I-" he wants to so say, but finds he has to clear his throat repeatedly before he can speak. "I am so, _so_ , sorry, Shishido-san," he manages hoarsely.

Shishido sits up, straddling his thighs. His torso glows in the dim light of the onsetting evening. "What?" he goes, rather bemused.

Having had his right wrist released, Ohtori uses both hands to cover his face. It's a small miracle his head doesn't explode with the sudden rush of blood upward now that lower areas aren't hoarding it.

"Did I go too fast?" Shishido suddenly asks, voice uncharacteristically small.

"What?" Ohtori says, or means to, but it's a muffled mess of noise against his palms. So he lifts a hand and repeats, "What?"

"I'm sorry," Shishido mutters. "I didn't want to pressure you. I just kinda…" --there's some hair-carding-- "lost it."

Ohtori sits up, or as far as he can with Shishido still sitting on him like that. He sort of leans back on a hand instead while he grabs Shishido's hand with the other. "No! It-it's not that!"

"Then why are you all weird all of a sudden? I don't-"

Ohtori shakes his head. "I actually just uh-" he looks away and mumbles the rest of it so that only 'in my pants' is understandable.

There's a small pause.

"Wasn't that the point?" Shishido asks, rather exasperated.

"I wanted to make _you_ -" Ohtori lets go of the hand, touches Shishido's hip. "-and I didn't expect you to-"

Before he can finish that sentence, Shishido pounces, knocking him flat on his back again. The sheets slide cool and soft against his back, but not as soft as Shishido's skin against his front. Shishido smirks, nips his bottom lip.

Ohtori blinks, squirms.

"You're were _asking_ for it," Shishido says, grinning. "Be more specific next time."

The smile can't be stopped when he says, "Alright," and allows himself to be kissed.

Next time turns out to be about half an hour later.

_-fin-_


End file.
